Moxie Boulevard
by JadziaVu
Summary: Shoved headlong into Gotham's criminal underground before I even had time to blink, I found myself operating on the right had of the most notoriously feared mastermind of all time. All hopes for redemption lost, I decided to make the best of my unexpected situation. (OCxJoker)
1. MS in BS

**Hello readers! **

**To those of you who are returning fans, BIG thank you for all your support. I really couldn't keep this going without you! For any newcomers, I hope you enjoy my sick and twisted creativity, and somewhat dark sense of humor. This story, in particular is nothing to trifle with when it comes to squeamishness, so I give you fair warning. For those of you who have read 'Blue Moon', this is a similar kind of set up with me as the OC (or rather my alter ego). This story was actually based upon a very elaborate (and steamy) dream I had a couple of weeks ago and just couldn't get out of my head. The Joker in this story is the Bermejo interpretation of him as seen in his graphic novel 'Joker'. If you haven't read it, DO IT NOW! You're missing out! Until then, you can just google him to get a taste for the character. I sure hope I do him justice, and he is one of my favorite versions. I expect this one to be rather short, but we'll see. I always think they will be short and they always end up going on for 20+ chapters!**

**So, for anyone who has read my fanfics from the Dark Knight/Nolanverse, this will not be the same kind of set up. If anything, it's a bit darker. If you prefer all the suspense and adventure of that universe, please do start with 'Harleen' and work your way up from there. I think you'll like it!**

**Please read and review, and if you enjoy what you read, please come back for more of my other stories!**

**Thanks again and enjoy,**

**-J**

* * *

Taxi driving was a ridiculous career choice for Gotham City. I grew up on these streets, you would think I would have known that. No one travels at night, and if they do, they take their own private vehicle. Safe. There and back with no detours. The less fortunate who actually do hail the occasional cab leave a really rotten tip, if any, and by this particular night it had been nearly two days since I earned enough to eat. Much less pay the rent. I'd be sleeping in my cab in another week. Tired of wasting gas I couldn't afford, I decided to pull onto the streetside at 42nd and Altern. The last guy hadn't been able to leave a cash tip, but he gave a cigar that smelled pretty nice considering how hungry I was. I figured it might at least keep the pangs in my stomach at bay for a while.

Rolling down the driver's side window, I pressed the cigar lighter in my dash and waited to hear the little _pop_. Most people would think twice about sitting on a dark street with their window down in Gotham, but I figured what the hell. I didn't have anything to take! Just a busted old cab and a cigar, ain't that something?

The lighter finally popped free and I bit the end off the cigar and spat it out the window. Just as I was building up a nice red glow, a few raindrops hit the window and splattered. I held my hand outside with a sigh, puffing my smoke out into the damp air.

"Just perfect", I said to myself. "Now it's going to rain. Yep, that seems about right, Vu."

I had decided to wait it out until the rain really started coming down, but the gods must have heard my thoughts because at that second it really started coming down hard. I stuck my cigar between my teeth and used both hands to rotate the turning knob to roll my window back up. I heard my back passenger door open and shut, followed by the driver's side, and had hardly pulled my cigar from my mouth when something cold pressed against my cheek. The sight from my rearview mirror nearly made me faint:

A man and a woman sat in my back seat, faces painted like sadistic clowns, and the man had a gun to my cheek. Though, I needn't call him 'the man', I knew exactly who this psychopath was. I couldn't help but ask myself what rotten deed I had done in my life to deserve getting held up in my own cab by The Joker and Harley Quinn. Didn't they have bigger fish to fry?

"Drive!", he screamed, making me nearly jump from my seat. I turned the key in the ignition, threw it into drive, and pressed the accelerator like I was a racecar driver. It took no time at all for the red and blue flashing lights to find their way into my panicked vision through my mirror. What a night! "You lose them or you're dead, got it sweets?" he said calmly.

I nodded, "Yes, sir. Cigar?"

"Ah", he sighed delightedly, taking my only other possession, "What service!"

Wind blew in my hair as I took the wheel with both white-knuckled hands. Harley Quinn was rolling down the window on her side, just behind me, and aiming her own gun back at the trailing police. Gunfire rang in my ears and distracted me from the road. I returned my attention just in time to see the jaywalker crossing in front of me. There was no way I could stop. I swerved around him into the oncoming traffic and narrowly missed a passing car which laid on its horn as I sped through. I pushed on the accelerator harder and turned the wheel down 56th street. My wheels started to hydroplane on the water, so I turned into the skid. My tail straightened and I kept on trucking like there was no tomorrow. Behind us, I could see the cop cars piling up at the scene I had just left behind. I wondered if the walker had made it. I wondered if I'd make it.

Catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I made a brave request, "Look buddy, I'll take you and your lady anywhere you want to go, just get that gun off my face, eh?"

The Joker, who sat in the back as though it were just another drive through the park during this whole ordeal, lifted his eyebrows at me is surprise. He puffed out a billow of smoke and chuckled a second before the gun left my face.

"You got spunk, kid. What's your name?"

My wheel turned again down another back alley road. I knew these streets like the back of my hand.

"Jadzia."

He leaned forward and turned his ear in my direction, "Wha?"

"Jadzia!" I repeated, "Jadzia Vu!"

The cigar returned to his lips as he laughed, relaxing back into the seat and placing an arm around his woman, "Not from around these parts are ya, Vu?"

Part of me thought better of telling my whole life story to this mass murdering supervillan, but I'm notoriously bad at taking my own advice, "I grew up here."

"Oh?" he puffed. "Pretty girl like you couldn't get a college education like all the rest of the white socialites?"

Harley shot him a scolding glace, which he ignored.

"I meant I grew up on the streets."

His interest seemed to peak, "No folks?" I shook my head. "So you got your Master's in Street Smarts, eh?"

Another turn led us into a darkened alley rarely traveled even by the hobo's of those streets, much less the fuzz. I cut the engines and turned the light off, leaving us in complete darkness, "Something like that. If we stay here for a while, the heat will die down, then I can take you where you want to go. That is, if they didn't catch my tags."

I heard The Joker release another puff of smoke, "Nah, our place is just around the corner. We can hike it from here."

Harley's door opened behind me, and slammed shut. I heard his open a split second later and his hushed voice scalding her outside the car, "You wanna keep it down, dummy!"

The couple immediately started in on each other and I sat awkwardly waiting in the dark, wishing they would just go away already. The voices finally quieted, and I took a moment to breathe deep in my smoky car, thanking all that was holy that I hadn't had my head shot off or been dragged to jail for being a getaway car in a crime I'd rather not know the details of. Just as I was beginning to feel a bit calmer and less shaken, my door opened and a painted clown face leaned down just inches in front of mine in the dark. He was so close I could see it scars.

"Hey you, I mean, Vu!" he chuckled at his rhyme for a moment, "You wanna make a decent buck?"

I didn't feel it was in my best interest to argue with the guy, and that was advice I was willing to take from myself, "Ah…sure."

His large hand reached in and grabbed me by the elbow, pulling me out and onto my feet with a stumble. I stepped ankle deep into a rain puddle and nearly fell onto my face, but he pulled me back to my feet and guided me rather forcefully down the dark alleyway. Harley was waiting for us by the corner, and although it was dark, the discontent in her face could not be missed. She turned the corner in front of us and we followed her, creeping along as quick and quiet as possible. After passing down a few more alleys and crossing a few streets, we came upon back entrance to the old movie theater. I knew that place. Use to sleep there before the drug lords took over. But by the looks of things, The Joker and his crew had long since conquered that area of Gotham and called it home.

Harley pulled open the door and we all retreated into the old film docking area. Oh yeah. I remembered this place. In my moment of nostalgia I had almost forgotten the precariousness of the actual situation, and fear hit me like a punch in the gut when I realized what I had done. I had willingly traveled into the lair of the beast. There was no way I'd make it out alive now, not at some cost. I had unwittingly and royally fucked myself.

I was officially an accomplice.


	2. Murder for Monotony

The rain poured in blankets outside. It was cold and dark, the stars and full moonlight having been stolen away by a swiftly migrating herd of robust, black clouds. I blew out the last puff of translucent smoke from my clove and flicked it out into an overflowing puddle of rainwater standing in the cracks of the old theater parking lot. The place was a ghost palace, no one there but me and the big boss who had hidden away several hours ago into his perch. I retreated indoors, latching the big metal double doors behind me and wiping my cold bare feet onto the faded red carpet of the parlor which had once been a brilliantly lit display of 'Now Showing' signs and old movie posters.

In the month that had passed I had been well initiated into the underground club of criminal miscreants and masterminds of Gotham's dark streets, my own boss being the pinnacle of them all. Not a fool in the city or on the planet would dare cross that man. He was king. Harley had resented my recruitment from the very beginning, why I'll never know, but the topic was often the cause of the black and blue bruises that covered her pretty face the following day. If I was that chick, I'd have dropped it a long time ago. Besides, it's not as if I had be handed some kind of special privileges since joining the crew. I was the driver for Christ's sake, my only responsibilities being behind the wheel: drive, drop, pickup, and get away. Luckily, I hadn't been subjected to much of the later since the night The Joker and I were so formally introduced. The boss allowed me to reside in the theater since I had no other home to speak of, and before Harley left nearly a week ago, she and he had called it home as well. But other than that, the rest of the crew, 'The Boys', were pretty much in and out during all hours. I slept on an old couch in the parlor and busied myself during the day with odd jobs, usually helping The Boys in some capacity, just trying to make myself useful. I thanked my stars they hadn't decided to make me Den Mother. I'd be damned if I cooked and cleaned after a bunch of grown ass men.

On this particular night I found my boredom to be somewhat tedious, and unfortunately, even my own exhaustion wasn't enough to put me to sleep. I cracked my neck and stretched my sore limbs on the couch before I drug my tired body up the stairs to the old Manager's Office where The Joker claimed his sleeping and working quarters. Since Harley left, I had been allowed into the rather forbidden area of the theater on numerous occasions. We'd sit and smoke cigars, drink whiskey and discuss plans for Gotham or spend a night trying to best one another's dirty jokes. Either way, I hadn't yet had the absolute pleasure of crossing paths with the notoriously dangerous side of The Joker's rough temperament. In fact, he was decent guy; respectable, intelligent, funny, charismatic. Granted, I was still new to the club.

That was going to change that night.

Reaching the top I knocked softly in the traditional 'Shave and a Haircut' rhythm, to which he normally retorted, "Two Bits", from the other side. But tonight, my playful request for entry was met with a rather aggressive, "WHAT?!"

My nose scrunched as I slowly pushed open the screeching door, "That's not how that bit goes."

His back was to me, hunched over his table and scribbling madly onto whatever parchment he had clearly been working on for the better part of six hours. Sweat darkened the fabric beneath his crisscrossing suspenders, and his gun and been pulled from its holster and rested onto the table beside him. He hadn't responded to my presence, but he also hadn't demanded that I leave. So bravely, I padded my way barefooted into the dim room. My eyes squinted in the space lit only by the glowing luminescence of a laptop screen. The couch to my right was littered with documents, maps, calendars, and schematics for god knows what.

Taking a few more steps forward, the narrow hallway opened into the slightly larger room where The Joker sat, scribbling silently away. I reached to turn the knob of the tall floor lamp a few clicks, and jumped when I was abruptly scolded.

"Don't you dare!"

He didn't look up or stop his work, and my nose scrunched at him again, "You'll work better with some light. Don't you have a headache?"

With his back still to me, it was impossible to read his features. He continued in silence for another few moments and just as I was turning to exit, rolling my eyes, I jumped again at the sound of three slams onto the table behind me. I spun to see him make the last slam with use of an empty coffee mug, eyes still on his work where he returned to writing.

My brows furrowed, "Is this a call to order?"

"COFFEE!" he spat suddenly.

I didn't jump this time. Who the fuck did he think he was? Who the fuck did he think _I _was? I wasn't his little secretary bitch assistant, and I sure as hell wasn't Harley. Crossing my arms in my chest, I planted my bare feet firmly to the ground and waited for him to actually acknowledge me in some capacity other than threats and short commands. It took a while, but he finally stopped and craned his neck back at me, a scowl of impatience on his scarred features.

"The fuck you waitin' for, a tip?" he growled.

"How about, 'Hey Vu, I seem to have run low on coffee, mind fetching me some more. Thanks.' Thanks sits better with me than yelling, by the way", I responded shortly.

Baring his teeth he shoved his chair back, toppling it over in his sudden motion. He snatched up the coffee mug, forcefully planted it into my hand, spun me by my shoulders, and pushed me toward the exit. Without at word, he turned and picked up his chair, sat, and returned to work.

_Old son-of-a-bitch. _

That man needed a real lesson in both manners and feminism of the new century. I didn't take that kind of shit from any other man, and I sure as hell wasn't going to take it from him. Spinning on my heels, I kicked my knee to my chest and whirled that damn coffee mug into the wall above his head just like a pro pitcher from the leagues. It shattered loudly and glass showered over him, making him flinch and leap to his feet. He looked surprised for a moment, then after taking in what had happened, glowered at me with an expression that threatened death. I stood my ground, chest high and ready for the beating of my life, but I wasn't going to go down without a fight. He couldn't slap me around like he did his blonde bimbo, and he'd have to learn the hard way.

Taking a long stride toward me, his backhand shot into the air and connected with my face. I felt like the teeth on my right side would shatter at the impact. The force of it turned my entire body and I stood frozen that way for a moment as I watched him square off with me in my peripheral vision. He raised a finger, preparing his threatening, alpha male speech which I wasn't at all interested in hearing. Instead his wide eyes watched in slow motion as my fist rose up to connected easily with his square jaw.

_Bastard didn't see that one coming._

He staggered backward and crashed onto his table, sending documents and pencils scattering in all directions. The gun rattled on the table, catching his attention, and for a moment I thought I really was about to die as his hand flung out to grab it. But to my surprise instead of pointing the gun at me, the lunatic proceeded to stick the barrel into his own mouth. Unsure how to react, and thoroughly distracted by the pounding ache in the right side of my face, I simply stood there on the spot and stared at him.

'Glared' is actually more the word for it.

After a long, still silence, the air was broken by the abrupt screaming laughter roaring suddenly from his chest. I startled and he tossed his head back, boisterous cackling rattling the very walls around us. Rolling my eyes in disgust, I rested my body back onto the wall behind me and simply waiting for him to finish his ridiculous guffawing.

It finally died down enough for him to speak, a light chuckle still shaking his chest, "Well, that was fun, Vu. Now, back to work."

"Fun?!" I screamed, my face feeling like it would rip apart, "You're a fucking nutjob, old man!"

His amusement faded into inquisition as he pushed himself from his table, "Old?"

I nodded, fuming in my painful rage, "Old. Crazy _old_ bastard."

He leaned forward, towering over me in his height and pressing his arms into the walls beside me, "_Old _man, you say." His dark eyes studied mine for a moment before his fist was suddenly gripping the front of my shirt, yanking and spinning me until my ass was shoved back against the table. The edge of it creaked against the wall it was set against, and The Joker used his body weight to pin me to it. The fist slowly released my shirt and his hand trailed slowly down between my breasts, down my abdomen, fingers looping into the elastic band of my pajama shorts. "You got a bad temper and a smart mouth, _kid_", he growled. At this point I was feeling more nervous than I had ever been around him. My pride held me stern, but inside, I was breaking.

"A lot like yours truly, really. I like that about you", he said. I felt my breathing kick up pace, out of my control. "Gives me someone ta keep me on my toes, square off with me when I need ta let loose a little, and when I'm bored…" His hand turned so the palm was flush to my stomach, then began to dive beneath my clothes. I gasped and tried to wretch his hand away, but he painfully secured my wrists into his free hand.

I used them to shove at his large chest as best I could, "Stop it, you perv!"

He chuckled darkly as his fingertips finally made their way between my thighs. Humming, he slid one teasingly along my slit and I could hear my heart pounding in my ears, "If I'm the perv, what does that make you?" Pulling his hand free he displayed his index finger to me, glistening and shimmering in the computer light from my thick juices. And there it was, I couldn't deny it try as I might in my anger…

I was turned the fuck on.

At this point, my breathing was heaving my chest so I high and fast I could hardly catch up to myself.

The finger lowered to my mouth, "Ever give yourself a try?"

I turned my head away, "You make me sick."

Fingers yanked at my hair, pulling my face painfully back into place. The weight of him pinning me back into the table was beginning to hurt. I was trying desperately to arch away from him, and escape the distractingly impressive hardness of his erection pushing against the anterior of my pelvis through our clothes.

"Here", he said, holding my focus onto him by my scalp, "I'll make it easy."

Grinning, he stuck his finger into his mouth and sucked with a vulgar groan deep in his chest. He pulled it free with a loud _pop_ and smiled as he yanked me forward, forcing my lips apart with his long tongue. I could taste my own arousal in his mouth, and it sent a shock of sexual electricity down my spine and to my core where it tingled and pulsed brilliantly. Against my own will, I actually moaned onto his mouth and felt him smile in crude satisfaction before pulling away and licking my lips. I closed my eyes and tried to push away all the unwanted sensations my body was practically vibrating with while his blunt teeth drug along my neck. I felt his weight let up on me just enough for his free hand to begin fumbling with his belt and the fastenings of his trousers. I felt my tight scalp loosen, and then both hands were lifting my ass onto the table. Fingers looped into the top of my shorts and quickly tugged them off of me. It was all happening so fast. My body was intoxicated by the pain, the adrenaline, the excitement, the arousal of something about him I couldn't explain. He was a dirty criminal, a lunatic, a scarred and deeply crazed psychopath.

But I wanted him. Oh _god_ did I want him.

As his thickness entered me, all I could do was surrender to what my body was aching for, pleading for. My arms wrapped around his shoulders and hung on for mercy as he began fucking me harder and deeper than any man had ever even dared. His fingernails clawed into my waist, holding me firm to the spot so he could have full control over pounding into me as harshly as possible. They relented on my flesh for a moment, and I felt his hands pry my arms off of him, pushing me onto my back and then yanking my ass over the edge of the table where he resumed his violent rhythm.

I was dizzy, drugged, and at the absolute mercy of my own pleasure, humming through me like I had never felt before. I hadn't even realized I had been screaming like that until he grunted and moaned to match my volume, growling like some kind of animal. Nails dug deeper as I felt my climax approaching, powerful and almost frightening. I reached down and grabbed his wrists, raking my own nails into him, arching my back and screaming his name like he was the only man on Earth. My orgasm tightened and constricted everything in me, I couldn't even breathe. For a moment I felt as though I were falling out of consciousness, my body felt weightless and paralyzed. Then I realized I had literally been lifted into the air, and was being flung across the room into the nearest wall. The sweat on my back made me slip up and down the wood paneling as he drove into me with long, deep thrusts, grunting with each one. His face rested into my neck and I could feel his hot breath beating onto me in my afterglow. His body began to shake slightly, and I felt his breath flutter on my skin. Then his nails dug into my back and I cried out in pain as he cried out in his pleasure, releasing into me, his body convulsing and dripping with sweat. His weight rested against me, holding me up against the wall while he recovered his strength and caught his breath.

After a while I heard him chuckle lazily, "Fuck I needed that." He pushed against the wall and pulled out of me, stepping back to examine my limp, exhausted, and half naked body left sprawled against the sweat-streaked wall. He tilted his head at me as he tucked himself back into his pants and pulled the zipper. "Thanks", he uttered sarcastically, mocking me to my face but me too relaxed and near comatose to respond. Whistling, he walked toward the exit of the office and turned the knob. "I think I'll drag my _old_ ass downstairs and get that coffee myself, now. You may wanna clean up", he chuckled.

As the door shut quietly, I lifted my head from the wall to glance down at the thick juices running down the insides of my thighs. Cocky bastard was so damn proud of himself, though part of me wanted to admit that he damn well deserved to be. As I pulled my shorts over my trembling legs, I mentally acknowledged that he had made his point: He was no old man.

Not at all.


	3. Oscar

**_Missing Persons Report:_**

_Name: Jadzia Vu_

_Demographics: Female, Caucasian, 28 years old, 5'6'', 130lbs, brunette, blue eyes_

_Last Whereabouts: Unknown_

I scanned the document, crunching through my cereal and wishing I had actually tried to do something with my hair the day my driving picture had been taken. My stark black strands piled about my pale shoulders, making me look about half awake but mostly dead.

"You're famous, Vu!" Marty quipped, smacking me on the back playfully. I sputtered and nearly lost my mouthful of Fruitloops. "I heard they expect _foul play_. No one even knew you was missin' till some cop found a bum sleepin' in your cab."

That cab had been there nearly a month, which meant not a soul in the world had actually 'reported' me as missing. My absence was literally stumbled upon by accident. I scoffed at the paper and tried to brush it away and finish my breakfast.

_To hell with all of them, I'm glad I took up with The Joker. At least here I matter._

I spent the rest of my lazy, uneventful day trying to remain productive and keep my mind off the final line of that report:

_"__Last Whereabouts: Unknown"_

It bothered the hell out of me. I mean I had friends, damnit! Didn't they wonder about me? Where I had gone to? Why I wouldn't answer my phone? Not a single goddamned one of them even bothered to try and stop by my crummy little apartment to check in? Against all my efforts, my heart continued to sink that morning. I couldn't seem to get those words out of my head. Luckily, Georgie had asked me to drop him for a job later that evening, so all there was to do now was pass the time until I could move onto more interesting endeavors. Eventually, boredom and general irritation drew my pacing toward the unmarked door at the top of a rickety set of stairs tucked into the far corner of the lobby. The rotting wood stuck on its hinges, and I had to shove my bodyweight into it several times before it opened enough for me to squeeze through.

I looked around the dusty room, reading the remaining markings on old reels and examining the inner workings of the machinery that projected them. I'm no mechanic, but give me some time to tinker, and I can usually figure stuff out on my own. After about an hour of clinking and tinking with the projector, I grabbed the nearest intact reel I could find and gently set it into place. Crossing my fingers, I flipped the switch and was pleased to see the flicker of dingy light engage the old screen. The movie was an old Felix cartoon, probably about thirty minutes in length. Proud of my handiwork, I skipped my way down to the old concession and popped a bag of microwave popcorn before heading into the theater to watch the silent display of black and white cartoon cats. The sound was something I might have to figure out another day, I figured.

About ten minutes into the film, I caught the shadow of someone entering slowly behind me. I was in the middle row, nearest the isle, feet propped up onto the seat in front of me. The figure stopped and sidestepped into the row in front of me.

"Oh! 'Scuse me, pardon me, make way, comin' through", The Joker quipped, traveling slowly across my field of view with his purple trousered ass purposefully in the way.

I tossed popcorn at his back, "Hey, down in front!"

He climbed over the seats and flopped down into the one next to me, reaching across to finger through my near empty bag for some popcorn. Shoveling some into his mouth, he relaxed back into the seat and crossed his arms behind his head.

"So, it works", he said.

I nodded, "Just needed a woman's touch is all." I heard him hum in approval, then chuckle to himself. "I turned to look at him, "Why's that funny?"

He licked and smacked his lips casually, "Now I know what ta tell the boys when they ask why I'm in such a damn good mood."

I blushed and returned to the movie. We hadn't spoken about what happened the other night, and most of me wanted to forget it ever had. I felt his arm lay around me and his hand squeeze my shoulder. I nervously reacted by bringing my feet to the floor and straightening in my seat. His focus remained on the screen and he leaned into me to reach for more of my popcorn. I felt like a teenager on a first date.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I pretended to check my watch, "Oh damn, I better get out there. I'm suppose to drive Georgie to the drop site tonight."

I made a quick attempt to stand, but was halted and pulled back down by one hand on my shoulder and another on my thigh, "Sit. They're loading now, won't be ready for a while longer."

Immediately the hand on my thigh began crawling upward, sending goosebumps over my flesh. I scolded myself and made a large mental note to wear more pants and less shorts as his hand pulled my legs apart and draped the one closest to him over his knee. I squirmed as fingertips traveled beneath the fabric of my panties, and his teeth nipped at my earlobe with a deep growl when I finally released the quiet moan of his name. He teased along my slit for a moment before I felt two long fingers dip inside me, making me drop my head back onto his arm with a sigh. Pumping slowly, I knew he was watching my face and body for a reaction to his merciless teasing, and I turned my face toward him.

"What are we doing, Joe?" I panted heavy lidded, addressing him by the nickname I had dubbed for him shortly after joining the team. I be damned if I was able to go around calling him 'Mistah Jay'.

"Hm?" he responded casually, as if he wasn't knuckles deep inside me.

My hand reached to grip the soft fabric on the sleeve of his button up as he penetrated deeper, "Oh my fuck…goddamn you…you.."

He quirked a sideways grin, "Old man?" His face dipped into my neck and I moaned at the sensation of his hot tongue tracing a path along my flesh. "Just passing the time, that alright by you?" he asked finally.

Unable to form a coherent response, I simply nodded. His head lifted, and just as his lips moved to meet mine, we jumped at the sound of Georgie calling from the entrance behind us, "We're all ready ta go for tha drop, Vu!"

The Joker grinned at me, but didn't relent his maddening manual work on me. It was difficult to focus on anything other than the Earth shattering orgasm he was sure to give me with just a few more pumps. The man had skill, old or not.

_Damn that Georgie._

"Ah…Alright. I'm coming", I responded shakily, trying to sound as calm and unaroused as possible.

"Are you?" the clown whispered at me playfully. With great personal effort and willpower, I pushed his hand away and stood into the isle on weak limbs. He pouted and leaned back into his chair, "I can't _believe_ you're just gonna leave me here like this", he winked, bringing his fingers beneath his nose to inhale my scent and clearly displaying a strangled erection in his slacks.

I adjusted my shorts and shuttered again as goosebumps flooded my skin. Other areas of my body were downright livid at the abrupt and incomplete ending to such a pleasurable episode, but I had work to do.

And damnit if the other side of my brain wasn't still badgering the hell out of me for being so promiscuous with such a dangerous man.

_Damn fool._

I shook my head in an attempt to lift the euphoria haze and made my way to the back dock of the theater to drive to the drop. Georgie was waiting for me there, arms crossed into his chest and a rather smug look on his face.

"You an' the boss gettin' awfully close, dontcha think?" he asked. "Ain't he a little old for you? He's gotta have at least what, like 30 years on ya?"

I lifted my keys from their hook and rolled my eyes, half embarrased, "That's none of your business."

"Hey, I'm just sayin', watch your back. Harley don't never stay gone for long, and if she finds out you been keepin' her man _company _while she's away, well…"

I felt the nerves tighten throughout my body, "Yeah, I know. Thanks for the advice anyhow, Georgie."

He punched me playfully in the shoulder, "We like havin' you around, Vu. I'd hate ta see ya take a mallet to the skull over some cock." He leaned close and nudged me in the ribs a few times, "And if that's all you're lookin' for, you know me and tha boys wouldn't have any objections to helpin' a friend in _need_, if ya know what I'm sayin'."

I grinned and shoved him out of the way, stepping into my vehicle and starting the engine, "You just let me sort out my own demons, buddy. Maybe I'll get it all figured out one of these days."

He climbed in to the passenger seat with a chuckle, "Yeah. Maybe we all will."

I hated to admit it, but I knew he was right. Harley would slit my throat and not think a thing of it if she knew, and I'd be an idiot to think The Joker might try to stop her. He didn't give a damn about me. We were just 'passing the time', remember? He cared less about me than the fuckers who actually knew me before I was 'missing'.

_Damnit._

The drop went off without a hitch, for what I'd rather not know. I had long before resigned to ignorance when it came to The Joker's doings in Gotham. Oh sweet bliss. I sat in the car for a long time after we got back, just thinking, practically beating my head against the steering wheel to figure out a way to make it all stop. I couldn't keep playing this game with him. I had to get out of it somehow. Maybe he'd get bored, I could only hope.

A white knuckle rapping at my window nearly made me jump through the roof of the car, and I rolled the window down with a deep sigh, "Jeezus, scare me to death why don't ya."

His scars broadened into a smile, gloved hands concealed casually in his pockets, "Your ass stuck to tha leather?"

I shook my head and he reached to open the door, grabbing at my wrist to pull me out of the car, "C'mon then."

I staggered from the vehicle, strangely reminiscent of the night we first met, the night I'd have given anything to go back and change, "Where are we going?"

He pulled me along behind him with a smirk, tightening his grip on my wrist, "Ta try and calm these old nerves of mine."

I planted my feet in the cracked concrete, "Joe, wait…I…" He turned to study me and his brows lifted inquisitively as I stammered for the right words, none of which seemed to make it past my dry lips. "Harley", was all I finally managed to eject with great effort.

The Joker looked amused, "And?"

"And she'll kill me if she finds out about us!" the point finally surfaced.

He chuckled and reached to unbutton my shirt playfully, "You afraid of a little blonde doctor, Miss Street Smarts?"

I smacked his hands away, "Hell yes! I'd be a fool not to be. My ass is grass if she comes back and catches us…in the act."

His long torso squared off with me, and his piercing green eyes appraised my features silently for a long while. I thought for certain I was on the blink of being man-handled for sheer defiance; he was use to dealing with Harley, after all. My fists clenched nervously at my sides, but to my great surprise, his scarred features relaxed into a playful smile and he brought a broad hand to my shoulder.

"Right you are, m'dear", he beamed, squeezing and shaking me by the shoulder gently. "Your safety is accounted for, I promise."

_Really?_

I tried to speak the thought out loud, but I was so completely dumbstruck by what the psychopath had just uttered that I had lost the ability to form a coherent word. Turning shoulder to shoulder with me, his arm wrapped to my waist and he began to pull me again toward the back entrance of the building like a pair of old friends. My widened eyes followed the ground as we walked.

"Chin up, beautiful!" he exclaimed, clutching my waist gingerly. "I won't tell if you won't."

He looked down at me and winked, earning a small grin in return.

I awoke to the shifting of weight at the foot of my couch, causing me to stir slightly and squint in the dim lighting of the lobby. A silhouette came into focus, darkened about the edges by the light coming from behind the figure.

"Joe?" I asked hoarsely.

A hand reached for me, finding leverage on the elastic waist of my pajama pants. As it began to tug downward, I felt my blood pressure rise.

"Hey!" I smacked at the hand and attempted to rise, "I thought you said-"

The hand released my pants and shoved me back down, "-Shaddup."

My heart thudded deep in my chest, increasing is rhythm 10 fold, "Georgie? What are you-"

Both hands reached out for me, this time pinning my shoulders to the couch cushions, "I said shaddup!"

His weight lay down upon me as I began to struggle. He reeked of old liquor and cigarette smoke.

My legs kicked to no avail, "Georgie, get off me! What are you doing?!"

Hands crawled up my shirt and tried again for my pants. I opened my mouth to scream but his hand clasped down on me with a firm grip, muffling my efforts.

I felt his breath in my ear, "C'mon, baby, you did it for him…", his hand cupped my bare breast beneath my shirt, "…you can do it for me."

I shrieked bloody murder beneath the hand clasped to my mouth, kicking and struggling with all my might against his heavy weight.

His amused chuckle brought tears to my eyes, "Ain't no one here gives a shit how loud you scream, girlie. Now, why dontcha show Big George them perky tits."

Whiskey breath hit my neck and cool air hit my exposed chest as I kicked and screamed and cried with all my might. I'd have torn his eyes out of his damn skull if I could get my hands free. I squeezed my lids shut and wailed in horror and disgust as he dipped his head and sucked at my nipple, wishing desperately for death to claim me.

Suddenly, the weight of him was thrown from me. There was a thud of body hitting the floor, the sound of pounding fists to flesh, the deafening crack of gunfire…

And silence.

I lay trembling, sobbing with my face turned into the back cushions of the couch. For a few agonizingly long seconds I thought perhaps my prayers had been answered, I had died and was moments away from waking in the depths of hell.

An exasperated sigh broke the darkness, pulling me back to Earth and reality, "Good help is so hard ta find these days. Wouldn't you agree?"

Slowly I turned my head and dared my eyes to open into the dim light, taking in the site of a familiar face and a deep Cheshire grin looking down at my half exposed and shaking body. Something possessed me, I know not what, and I sprang to my feet. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I buried my head into his chest and sobbed loudly against his warmth. Moments passed before his arms finally enveloped me and I felt something I had not felt in my entire life.

_Safe._

"There there, my pet. No need for tears, Joe's got it all handled", he cooed. A hand softly patted my hair in long easy strokes as I clung to him and cried. It all felt like a strange and terrible dream. A nightmare. "The world has abandoned you, little Vu. They disposed of you without ever giving you a chance, and left you to make your way in this cold cruel city all alone, without a friend in the world. But I'm your friend, Jadzia."

His dark vocals rumbled against my head as he finished his slow monologue, but I had long before ceased my sobbing. My arms still held him close and tight, but my mind was blaring with metaphorical flaming red flags.

_My god, he's trying to Harley Quinn me._

The realization hit me like the bullet between Georgie's lifeless eyes. It had been his game all along, and the really sad part was: even knowing what he was doing, I just might fall for it.

I lifted my head slowly, turning my chin up to look into his fierce eyes. Sociopaths were such amazing actors. Had I not known better I might have actually believed that small glimmer of empathetic affection behind the malice and insanity I already knew him for. And yet, there was still something eerily comforting about the way his rough hands brushed the tears from my face and cupped my jaw, pulling me into that alluring and convincingly loving kiss. His mouth felt so strange with its jagged scars, though his tongue was admittedly very appealing. I felt myself melt into him, eager to taste and caress him like the sick little puppy I was.

"Don't worry your head over little Harley", he whispered between slow, sweet kisses. "She made her bed, now didn't she?"

The sugar in his otherwise gruff and rugged voice sent shivers down my spine. It was an act worthy of a thousand standing ovations, and I was certain that I was being seduced by the devil himself.

And worst of all…sickest of all…

I liked it.


End file.
